How can one be compelled to accept slavery? I simply refuse to do the master's bidding. He may torture me, break my bones to atoms and even kill me. He will then have my dead body, not my obedience. Ultimately, therefore, it is I who am the victor and not he, for he has failed in getting me to do what he wanted done. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? If not now, when? ~ Rav Hillel, Pirke Avot

This Red Sea Pedestrian Stands against Judeophobes

Wear It With Pride

14 August 2008

I've spent quite a bit of time meditating on the ramifications of the PUMA/Just Say No Deal movement. It is certainly born out of a long standing American tradition of rebellion, hence the Denver Group's effective use of the image of the Boston Tea Party. Revolutions, violent, and non-violent have been necessities of social change throughout history. Our movement, wholly and totally non-violent, is the latest. I think of this revolution's heroes and sheroes; Will, Diane, Murphy, Paula, Riverdaughter, Rikki Lieberman, Camille, Father, and everyone at Bitterpoliticz, Heidi Li, Marc Rubin...the list is endless. I have been constantly amazed at the collective power of this movement. But another unique feature of this movement is that there is no centralized power. It is a coalition of individual groups that, through a collective unconscious that would make Jung proud, has driven the engine of this rebellion. Individuals with no cues or orders have stood up, taken the reins, and driven this movement forward.

Throughout this revolt, and make no mistake...it is a revolt...I have had Michael Collins on my mind. He is, as far as I'm concerned, the father of the Irish Republic, and though the revolt he led was violent in much of its aspects, in direct contrast to our non-violent revolution, his story is a testament to the difference one person can make.

I first encountered him in my youth, studying the Jewish partisan uprising against the British in what was called Palestine. Ironically, Collins, who abhorred violence (it pained him to send men to battle), invented modern urban guerrilla tactics which were admired and adopted by Yitzchak Shamir in the 1930s. Shamir even went so far as to take Michael as his code name.

Collins wore many hats in the Irish revolt of the early 20th century. He had a head for business and accounting, and kept the money flowing from business fronts to arms suppliers, to the treasury of the government of the Irish Republic, which at that time existed only on paper and in the hearts of the Irish people. If you know anything about the Irish and their turbulent history, then you know that that is more than ample. Though there was no legal document recognized by a foreign power, the Irish Republic was as real to the people of Ireland as our republic is to us. The desire for freedom was a thirst that could never be quenched, a hunger that could never be satisfied. Men, women, and children gave their coin, their bread, their sweat, and their lives to make the long dream of freedom a reality. No one embodied that spirit in greater fashion, to more effect, or with more swagger than Collins.

To the British he was a shadow, a man who had barely been photographed. He rode about the streets of Dublin on a bicycle, sometimes with information on his person that would have ended the movement in a swift stroke. But he had something that the British could never get at, something they couldn't put their hands on, something they could not kill; and they certainly tried. He had the people.

Shop keepers, farmers, maids, accountants, barflies, lawyers, even intelligence officers in the employ of the Crown came to his aid. Some sheltered weapons, some sheltered soldiers and politicians. Some provided intelligence. Some gave food. But they all gave to Collins because they trusted him.

When the defeat of the British finally came, and they sat down to make peace with the Irish, a rift formed that would eventually take Collins' life. The British would grant a Republic, that ultimately had to swear fealty to the Crown, and divided the nation. The president of the Republic, Eamon de Valera knew that a devil's bargain awaited him in London so he sent Collins to make a deal that de Valera knew would potentially set off a civil war. When Collins sat down at the table with the British he knew he had no choice but to drink from the poison cup. He had to accept the division of Ireland, and allegiance to the Crown (in reality the oath was to the Irish Free State, with subsidiary allegiance to the Crown) in the hopes that they would one day have a united country. When he returned with the treaty all began to quickly unravel. Civil war broke out between pro and anti-treaty factions. Collins served as the Commander-in-Chief of the army of the Irish Free State, and had already made moves to launch a guerrilla war in Northern Ireland (one of the reasons why the dividing of the nation was not considered as traumatic as the other terms of the treaty).

Collins never gave up on the dream of the Irish Republic, and did what he could to bring it to his people. Saving it cost him his life. Ironically, he was not killed by the British. His convoy was ambushed in his childhood home, County Cork, the rebel county, by his own countrymen who were against the treaty. He rebelled against the British, created an unseen financial and intelligence network, brought the British to their knees, and helped oversee the creation of the Irish Free State. He died at the age of 31, in a civil war that he desperately tried to avoid.

The revolution against British control of the thirteen colonies began with the battles at Lexington and Concord; the shots heard 'round the world. It resulted in a new form of government in 1787 that created a framework for revolution by vote, by non-violence. It was sealed in 1789 with the passage of the Bill of Rights. Every four years we go to the polls to select new representatives to the Democracy provided for in the Constitution of the United States. This year we saw a political party violate its own constitution to disenfranchise 600,000 voters, and thus rob 18 million of us of our voice. We have spent the summer fighting to get that voice back. I have a t-shirt, as do many of you I'm sure, that says, "Team Hillary. Everyone has a role." We have been fighting for Democracy. Our girl is going to have her name in nomination, and we did not fire a single shot.

Though I'm pleased that Hillary's name is being placed in nomination, I don't think we should get ahead of ourselves. Being placed in nomination is something that has always happened in Democratic Party conventions. The only reason it's a big deal now is because the DNC and Obama tried to make it seem like this wouldn't happen. The process has been gamed against Clinton from the beginning. We're not out of the woods yet.

What a beautiful account of Michael Collin's fighting Irish spirit. I am truly humbled to be worthy of such comparison...

What I loved most about your blogpost was your understanding of our movement's "collective unconscious" -- which reaffirms an earlier instinct to keep Just Say No Deal organic and democratic (in opposition to a proposed "executive board" by some). I am blown away at how synchronized we are without prior coordination...people just 'get it'...I've never experienced anything so powerful in my life.

This has nothing to do with EGO, but everything to do with ONE SINGLE VOICE!

thanks for providing some well-needed inspiration for this exhausted puma... no regrets, no surrender -- on to denver!

Tough Mama

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About Me

I went blind for 36 hours in the spring of 1973 while suffering from pneumonia. In my expert medical opinion I was suffering from an acute case of hysterical blindness caused by having to watch the Watergate hearings with my mom, who was also shvach with the pneumonia. As a result, I am now physiologically incapable of being bamboozled by politicians, reporters, commentators, partisans, artisans, charlatans, caravans, old sedans, chicks with tans, or guys named Stan. I am a satirist, rabid feminomacho equalitist, Israel and HaShem loving Jew, sarcastinator, historialogist, musicologist, pain in the ass, and thorn in your side. Animals are people. Two legs good, four legs awesome.
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